What your HEART wants, not your DaddyDearest
by Exactly.As.Planned
Summary: His passion is football. The other lives as if music is his lifeline. So what had them meet, and why? Was it the Fates or the musician's best friend? Harry PotterxVictor Krum, AU. HIATUS-bordering on DISCONTINUED
1. Ch 1 Harry PotterRiddle

"Harry!! Harry!!!" The boy looked up at the sound of his best friend's voice. A smile lit up his emerald green eyes. That was the only trickled of emotion he would ever show. "Heya Harry! Want to come catch the game with me? Then you, me, Draco, and Parvati can go out, how's that sound to you?" Harry sighed. He would never admit it, but seeing Hermione happy and ecstatic like now made his heart swell. Because he knew it was because of him and his cousin Parvati that Hermione was happy. He looked at her blankly.

"Whatever. Is Draco going to be there?"

"I'm here, love," a drawl said from a few feet down the hall. Harry closed his instrument case and walked out of the room with Hermione. "Hello Hermione, hey Harry." Harry nodded to the platinum blond. His icy blue eyes met Harry's emerald ones briefly before looking away. Guilt was the only legible emotion. "I need to talk to Harry for a second…"

"Um…" Hermione looked between them. Sighing, she gave in by holding out her hand for Harry's instrument case. Harry reluctantly handed the black thing over and followed his boyfriend back into the classroom.

Draco sighed and sat on the teacher's table while Harry sat on the back of the chair he'd just vacated. Draco glanced up at Harry and quickly looked away. Harry sighed boredly. He preferred a stupid football game to this. Heck, he preferred anything to a guilty silence. And plus, Harry didn't start the conversation. He waited to speak until he was addressed. It's how his adoptive father Tom Riddle raised him. Harry folder his arms across his chest and tugged at the knitted neck of his emerald turtle neck Tom's mother knitted for him. He sighed again to make his annoyance known. Draco finally met his boyfriend's eyes. Okay. Someone tell Harry what's up with the whole guilt thing. Draco cleared his throat and began nervously tapping his fingers on his thigh.

Harry let out another sigh, pushed himself up, and walked to the door. "I'mbreakingupwithyou!" he said hurriedly. Harry stopped, turned around, and raised a black eye brow. He was chewing on his lip, the way that had Draco immediately regretting the decision, the way that showed Harry was thinking about the new twist that had popped up in his already perfectly plotted life. His eyes were staring at the floor as he thought this through. He opened his mouth, shook his head, closed it, and went back to chewing. Finally, he turned his emerald gaze to Draco and nodded. Sometimes Draco hated how submissive Harry was. Sometimes, like now, Draco wished Harry spoke his mind. Draco wished Harry would have emotion for god's sake!!! That was the only reason for Draco's abandonment of Harry. He wanted Harry to be angry, he wanted some form of un-calm reaction! Ugh! Draco sighed, shook his head, and stormed out of the room as if _he _had been the one dumped, tears in his eyes. Tears of anger. Harry sighed and shook his head, following after the platinum blond. He shoved his hands into his pockets and began making his way towards the football stadium, taking his sweet time. He sighed in contentment as he made his way outside into the drizzling rain. He looked at his watch. Damn. Hermione would kill him. He was late. Whatever. He could always tell her… Yeah, he'd have to tell her the truth. He shrugged as he walked up the stairs of the bleachers. He walked over to Hermione and sat on the blanket she produced from her bag the moment she saw him.

"What took you?" she asked as some kids from the opposing school cheered.

"Draco broke up with me," Harry replied tonelessly.

"He did what?!" Hermione hissed. Harry was kind enough to grace her with a bored look that said, 'well, I just said that.' She glared. "Aren't you angry, Harry?" Again, a look. This one asked her if she was stupid. "I know how you were raised, Harry, but can't you think for yourself?"

"Hermione, I don't care. At all." He sighed and picked up the black case from the ground and cradled it to his chest. This was the one thing he cared about. The one thing Tom let him do of his own accord. The one thing Harry was defiant about. The one time Harry was dominant instead of submissive. Hermione smiled.

"Will you play a song for me?"

"Hermione…" Harry looked at her uneasily.

"You can say n-" but before she could finish, Harry had the instrument out and was making sure it sounded right. Of course. She should've known. Harry loves showing off his musical talents. He brought the chin rest to his chin, tightened his bow, and he began playing. Soon, not even the football players were playing. Harry was content with the silence other than his violin and the rain. He was standing up, a nasty habit he'd picked up from all his concerts, and he was gently moving with the beat, his eyes closed. He would move with the bow and, in the rain, painted a perfect picture. The music thrummed through the silent stadium, echoing in the small corners. Harry's body dipped down with the bow at the finishing note and he sat down and put his violin away. Hermione grinned. "Beautiful Harry. I absolutely love when you play music!"

Harry looked at her with his blank expression. He merely nodded as the football game no one noticed had stopped began again. He turned and leaned back against the brick of the school building the bleachers were in front of and he closed his eyes, allowing the black of sleep the envelope him. He next woke to his cousin and his cousin's girlfriend prodding him in the shoulder.

"Nnn…? 'Mi-Mione? Parvati?" he murmured, yawning. He sat up and sighed, his blank façade falling back into place.

"Hello Harry," Parvati said, kissing her cousin's cheek. She pulled him up and Hermione grinned at them.

"Do you mind, Harry? I need to talk to my brother for a minute to tell him we're going out. Maybe he can come as well…" Hermione looked at him innocently.

"Do I ever mind?" Harry remarked dully. Hermione's face fell. Of course he never minded. He didn't care. Unless his violin came into play in any way, he didn't give a damn. Hermione sighed and led her girlfriend and her best friend off to the locker rooms where they stood in an awkward silence for about ten minutes.

The door swung open and Hermione grinned really big as star quarterback Viktor Krum Granger walked out alone. Everyone else had left before him with Friday Night Plans. He smiled slightly at Hermione and Parvati and looked questioningly at Harry. "Vho is your friend, Hermione?"

Hermione looked at Harry meaningfully and he just stared emotionlessly back at her. "Vik, this is Harry Potter, my best friend!" Viktor looked from his sister to Harry and back again. He then joyously took Harry's hand and began shaking it at a rapid pace.

"Vell, very nice to finally get to veet you!" he said ecstatically. "I am Hermione's brother, Viktor! You vay call ve Vik if you vish to!" Harry nodded.

"Just Harry."

Hermione sighed. She stared at Harry for a minute and spoke. "Vik is adopted, Harry. From Bulgaria." Harry nodded, understanding sparked in his eye.

"Vell Harry, vhy did you not ask ve yourself?" Viktor asked.

"Can I tell him Ha-"

"It's how Tom raised me. Speak only when spoken to."

"Tom?"

"Tom is Harry's adopted father. Harry's parents died in a car crash and Harry was brought up to be submissive and speak only when spoken to, Vik," Hermione muttered hurriedly. Victor studied Harry and grinned.

"You vere tha von playing tha violin, veren't you?" Viktor asked, something lit up in his dark brown eyes. Harry nodded. "I think ve vill ve tha vest of friends then!" Viktor exclaimed, clapping Harry's back. Harry nearly choked on his own saliva. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Vhat? Vell vhy not?"

"I am gay and Tom only allows my boyfriend in our house and Draco just broke up with me. You do the math," Harry said. It would have been snide had he not said it so dully. Viktor smiled.

"I neveer said I had to come to your house, Harry," he chided. Harry stared. "Vhat I mean is that you can come oveer to our," he motioned between himself and Hermione, "house."

Harry shrugged and Hermione took that as her cue to butt in. "Vik, we're going out. Want to come?"

"Vhere are ve going?" Viktor asked.

"Harry, where would you like to go?" Parvati asked shyly. Harry looked at her.

"Bar-B-Que and a movie." Hermione blinked and, without warning, began laughing.

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

Opinions, my loves?

Lots of Loves

–Psi


	2. Ch 2 Tom Riddle

Harry sighed as he fished the skeleton key out of his shirt pocket. He was positive trouble would be there for him… Just behind the polished mahogany door. He clenched his fist for a moment, his emerald eyes narrowing at the door. Just as quickly as the angry spell had come, it vanished. He sighed, gently unclenched his fist, set it on the door knob, pushed the key into the lock, and turned it. An audible 'click' told Harry that his doom was near. Oh yes, his doom was very near if the heavy footfall behind the door, dulled ever-so-slightly by the carpet, was anything to go by. He gently pushed open the door and pulled his key out of the lock. He kept his head bowed. If he didn't, it would cause many problems. He tucked his key back into his pocket, took his shoes off, and set them gently by the door. He closed the door gently and kept his head bowed as emerald green sock-clad feet stopped feet before him. Harry extended his arms out. Two very pale hands extended. One grabbed both of his wrists and the other roughly gripped his chin and forced him to look up and meet the angry, red gaze of his guardian.

Now, Tom Marvolo Riddle wasn't a cruel person at heart. No. In fact, at heart, he would never dream of hurting a fly. Too bad that part of him was crushed by a whip from his younger years in his father's home. So now, he was a cruel person at heart. This would be why he calmly excused himself from the company of his co-worker and his family, Vernon and Petunia Dursley and their son Dudley. He smiled genially to them as he apologized for having to leave them. He sneered at the front door as he entered the hallway, sweeping some of his obsidian hair from his eyes. As he approached the door, he straightened his emerald shirt to perfection and sighed dramatically as his young charge, the boy that resembled him in nearly every way, stepped in with his head bowed submissively. As the young boy closed the door, Tom continued until he was stopped but a few feet from the teen. The teen held out his arms. Tom internally danced. It took years to get Harrison James Potter-Riddle to remember the ultimate signs of submission. With his right hand, he gathered both of the boy's wrists into his fist and yanked his arms to the side and with his left hand; he forcefully grabbed his charge's chin.

Harry's face was void of emotion as his emerald eyes met the red ones of Tom Marvolo Riddle's. A sick smirk crawled onto Tom's face.

"Harry, Harry, Harry…" Tom chided, sounding like a kid that just got the toy he always wanted. Harry looked at him. Blankly, might I add? "Where have you been, little Harry-kins?" Tom released Harry, who fell back into his previous position with his arms by his side and his head up.

"With Hermione and Padma. We went out for Bar-B-Que and a movie after the school football game," said the teen, setting his violin case against the wall for its protection.

"And Draco?" Tom asked, his eyes sparkling.

"He broke up with me," Harry replied firmly.

The sound of skin-on-skin was heard all the way to the penthouse atop the Riddle Mansion. Vernon and his wife looked at each other and they got up and crept to the door way to the hall. The lanky form of Harry James Potter-Riddle was slumped pathetically against the wall and Tom had his right arm across his chest. He'd just slapped his "son."

"Get up, Harry!" Tom snapped. Harry stood as he had been. "He. Broke up. With you," the man repeated. Harry just looked at the man. "And how did you react?"

"I stared for a moment before accepting this fact. I then followed him out of the room," Harry said.

"Why? Did he leave first? How did he leave?!" Tom demanded. Sometimes Tom regretted raising Harry this way, because you had to _push _and _push_ for information! It was really rather tiring. But good. Because children tended to tell more than needed to be heard.

"He did leave first, Tom. He left as though I was the one who had broken up with him. He was crying. He might've drawn blood he was biting his lip that hard, sir," Harry replied.

"And Hermione?"

"'Mione asked me if I was angry. I told her I did not care," answered the teen.

"Is that all?"

"She told me to speak for myself. I told her that I did not care of Draco's abandonment of me," Harry told his "father."

Tom glared. "You need to start courting again," he snarled. Harry looked at him with innocent green eyes. "Anyone, anyone! JUST START COURTING! MALE, FEMALE, I DON'T CARE, HARRISON! I JUST NEED YOU TO MARRY SO I MAY HAVE AN HEIR!!" Harry nodded and tucked a piece of obsidian hair behind his ear. He winced. "What is wrong, Harry?"

"My cheek stings," Harry answered emotionlessly. Tom leaned down and kissed Harry's cheek where the still-obvious handprint remained.

"I am sorry for hitting you, my little Griffin. I was angry. I am sorry," Tom murmured as he gently kissed Harry's cheek again. Vernon and Petunia scrambled back to their spots and began patting their son's hair down. If Harry dated Dudley, and eventually married him…. Oh, think of all the opportunities! Vernon and Petunia grinned at each other.

"Better yet," Tom's voice drifted into the sitting room, "Griffin, lie low. It will be better for others to court you. Let us hope, my Griffin that Draco does not come. Perhaps one of the Weasley boys, or that pretty little Zabini boy, will court you…" And Tom and Harry entered the sitting room. Disgustingly, they wore identical clothing. Both wore silk emerald shirts with long sleeves, silver silk slacks, and emerald socks. Both should have been models. Well, okay, so was it the same if Tom's company was a modeling industry? 'Tom's Teasing Treats' was his modeling company. And it sure lived up to its name. All of the models were ultra sexy, had fanbases from lower, lesser known industries, and had all caught Harry's eye at some point. Even the women. Harry sat down with the grace of a model and somehow managed to look ultra sexy while doing it. Quite sad that the Dursley family saw and thought this in unison, actually.

Petunia smiled genially at the boy beside Tom and then smiled at Tom. "My, my, Tom. He has grown to be a lovely young man. You and he look quite alike," she gushed. Harry smiled (in what he thought would be) shyly, pushing an annoying strand of his shoulder length obsidian hair behind one ear. Tom smiled. Yes, he raised Harry very well. At least Harry had acting skills. Too bad he never used them. "Well, little Harry, may I call you Harry?" Harry looked at Tom who nodded so his son nodded. "Well, Harry, I hope you and my little Dudley become good friends! How was your day today, Harry?"

"It was fine, thank you Mrs. Dursley," Harry said monotonously. Petunia smiled and (much to everyone's chagrin) her cheeks turned slightly pink and she patted down her blond hair.

Tom smiled and looked at Harry. Through his teeth he hissed, "Well Harry, tell her what went on!"

Harry smiled in a cheesy fashion at Petunia. "Would you like to know what I did today…?"

Petunia smiled nervously. "Well, I, is… Well, if…. What… Well… Sure," she said. Internally, Tom and Harry vomited. Externally, they both smiled in a fake fashion.

"Well, let us see…" Harry leaned into the couch, crossing his right leg over his left and throwing his arms over the back of the couch.

Pretty much: He looked like a God. What god could be questioned. Ask Petunia and she would tell you the God of Good Looks, ask Vernon and he would say the God of Wife-Stealing, and ask Dudley and he would say the God of Turn-Ons.

"Well, I went to school. After school, I went to my music tutoring," Harry began.

"What do you play?" Dudley butt in. Harry's monotonous emerald gaze was trained on the fat, blond boy.

"Violin," was the dull reply.

"What did you do after music tutoring, Harrison?" Vernon pushed.

"My best mate 'Mione asked me to go to the school football game, my boyfriend came up and asked to talk to me, I gave Expelliarmus to 'Mione, and Draco broke up with me. I then travelled to the football stadium and sat with Hermione, told her what happened, played my violin, and went to sleep. She then woke me up and she, Parvati, and I went to speak with Hermione's brother Viktor Krum," here, Harry and Tom exchanged looks, "and then the girls and I went out for Bar-B-Que and to see the movie "Bedtime Stories" and Viktor tagged along. That was my day. And now here we are," explained the teen. He then closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the back cushion of the couch.

Tom placed a pale hand on Harry's shoulder and began rubbing his thumb in circles. The room fell into a peaceful silence as everyone watched Harry sleep. About an hour of silence followed until Harry jolted in his sleep. Tom withdrew his hand and eyed his son. Harry's back arched in what would be assumed as pain. His body slammed against the couch and a thin sheen of sweat began coating Harry's face. His breathing became rapid and soon he was hardly breathing. And his eyes flashed open. They were dilated and dazed over. His emerald eyes darted around in fear… Still dilated. Tom gently placed his hand on Harry's cheek, rubbing his thumb gently over Harry's cheek.

"Where is she?" Harry whispered. His voice was hoarse.

"Who…?" Vernon asked. Harry ignored him and stood. Tom sighed. This was only the third time it had happened the past week. Hopefully it wouldn't become regular. Tom didn't want to waste his money on a therapist or a doctor. Dilated emerald eyes scanned the room. A pale hand messed obsidian locks as the teen looked around frantically.

"Where is she…? Is she hurt?!" hissed the Potter-Riddle boy.

"Harry," Tom cooed. "Hush and come to me." As if hypnotized, Harry's eyelids drooped and he sat down and curled his body against Tom's. "Sleep, my dear. Sleep. Vanish to the land of dreams, where nothing is true nor reality. Sh…" Tom stroked Harry's hair out of his face and planted a chaste kiss on his forehead.

"Mmm… Okay, Tom…." Harry mumbled.

Petunia stared. The Dursley family was _so_ out of the loop…

"What was that…?" Petunia whispered.

Tom merely smiled. "So," he said cheerfully, cradling Harry to him in a cheesy style- that of a groom whisking his bride away, "would you like some more tea and crumpets?"


	3. Ch 3 Hermione

Parvati hesitantly knocked on the door to the Riddle Mansion, Hermione hanging off her arm. Viktor stood silently behind them, hoping his new friend was not punished due to his foolishness. The large mahogany door silently swung open, revealing Tom Marvolo Riddle. He smiled at them, shooting a questioning look at Viktor. He did not speak but silently ushered them in and they were hit with the smooth sound of a violin being played very quickly. Like a professional would be able to do. They followed the pale man dressed in casual ruby red, silk slacks and a casual silk gold turtle neck into the living room where a family of three sat on the couch watching the Potter-Riddle teen dressed like his guardian play away on his violin. Hermione dropped Parvati's arm and glided forward, her hand resting on the piano as she watched her best friend play. What he played for her was _nothing_ compared to this. He moved with the bow. If it went down, his body moved down. If the bow went up, his body went up. Harry's emerald orbs opened and he stopped playing when he saw Hermione, Parvati, and…… Viktor.

Tom began clapping as did the Dursley family. Harry ignored them and set his violin down, staring at his friends. Anger flood through his body. He knew not why, just that it did. His vision was blurred by red. He was confused, angry, and alone. Most of all, he felt betrayed by Hermione. She knew Viktor shouldn't be there, yet she brought him with her. Harry took deep, calming breaths and that only fueled his anger.

"Harry?!" Tom exclaimed as Hermione rushed to his side. Harry back-handed her before she could reach him.

"Harry?!" Parvati whispered. She was debating between her girlfriend and her family. She ran to Harry and pulled him into a hug, petting his hair. "Harry, are you okay, **mon chéri****1**?" Parvati cooed. Viktor was in shock. He was under the impression that Harry was calm, collected, and… Well… Emotionless…

Harry pushed away from his cousin, murmuring, "**Je suis désolé****2**, Parvati," before throwing himself at his guardian. Tom caught him and, murmuring sweet nothings in French to his **peu d'amour****3**, carefully carried him from the room. Hermione glared daggers at Parvati.

"What the hell was that?!" she snarled.

Parvati turned her dark brown orbs on Hermione. "That was supporting my family, Hermione. Family is forever, you, however, are most likely not. I would protect **mon chéri** forever," explained the dark haired girl. Viktor shook himself out of his shock.

"Vell, that vas… Interesting…. I guess," he murmured. He looked at the family on the couch. "Vhy hello there. Forgive ve for not introducing vyself earlier. Vy name is Viktor Krum-Granger." Vernon stood up and held his pudgy hand out.

"Viktor. I am Vernon Dursley. I am one of Mr. Riddle's business partners. This is my wife, Petunia," Vernon motioned at the blond woman on the couch, "and my son Dudley." He motioned at the fat boy. "We are in town for a few months due to some business gone wrong on our _other_ partner's side, Sirius Black's." Vernon straightened his jacket. "Yes… So much for the boy's Godfather, eh Petunia?" Petunia shrugged and looked at her husband. Tom re-entered the room, Harry trailing behind, his head bowed in submission.

"Harry, are you alright?" five voices cried out at once. Vernon, Petunia, Dudley, Parvati, and Viktor. Hermione was still angry with Harry. Harry merely nodded his head.

"What happened to him, Tom?" Petunia asked.

Tom airily waved a hand, dismissing the comment as trivial. "Angry spell. He's had them since before Lils and Jamie died," he explained.

"Lils and Jamie?" Parvati asked. Harry's eyes flashed an angry red, unnoticed by everyone.

"Lily and James Potter, **débile****4**," the teen said dully, never raising his head to meet anyone's gaze. Not until Tom said so. Not until Tom forgave him for laying a hand on a female. That would never happen. Tom forgave and forgot when it fell under the category of the male beings, but females… Tom never forgave Remus Lupin for marrying Nymphadora Tonks, never forgave James Potter for marrying Lily Evans, never forgave Vernon Dursley for marrying Petunia Evans, never forgave Lucius Malfoy for marrying Narcissa Black, and, most importantly, Tom never forgave himself for marrying (then divorcing) Minerva McGonagall. Not only did he divorce her, he murdered her as soon as she got back from her honeymoon whence she remarried. No one ever found the murderer of Minerva McGonagall because it was a onetime thing with a weapon that was destroyed and the records of it being bought were erased from the world. Anyways, Tom never forgave any man who touched a woman on purpose.

"Now," said Tom softly, "who is this boy?" he gestured to Viktor who was watching Harry. He too was debating between family and friends.

"Hello sir. Vy name is Viktor Krum-Granger. Vhat is your name, sir?" Tom smiled genially. This boy would be good to court Harry. This boy or one of the Weasley boys. Oh, Tom would have to invite the candidates over for dinner one night.

"I am named Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tom Riddle for my father and Marvolo for my grandfather. Call me Tom, **cher enfant****5**," the man with ruby eyes muttered, glancing at Harry. Harry kept his head bowed the entire time. "Yes…"

"Pleased to veet you, Tom," Viktor said, yet his eyes were set, not on Tom, but on Harry. "'Arry," he murmured.

"Yes…?" Harry whispered in a small voice.

"'Arry, vhy did you heet my seester?" Viktor asked.

"She… She knew you aren't supposed to come here until Tom says so… Yet she brought you anyways," was the monotonous reply.

"… Vhy?" Viktor said finally.

"Ask Tom," Harry murmured. He was pushed to the couch by Tom and silently, he sat down. He rested his head on Dudley's shoulder and closed his eyes, falling asleep shortly after.

Viktor turned to face Tom. "Vhy vas I not supposed to come?"

Tom glared. "I only allow potential suitors in my home."

"Vhat do you vean vy "potential suitors", Mr. Tom?" Viktor asked as Hermione stood and tenderly touched her cheek.

"That Harry needs to find a lover so he may give me an heir," Tom sighed in exasperation.

"Vut 'Arry is a man!" Viktor exclaimed.

"Yes, well, he was born with hereditary problems. He was born with a uterus and thus is able to bear children. He had one to many of Lily's genes in him and that enables him to have a uterus and able to reproduce," Tom explained slowly as if he was talking to a mentally retarded child. "**Cher enfant**, surely you have learned this in school?"

"Vell-"

"No, Uncle Tom. We haven't learned about it yet. We only learn about it in senior year," Parvati interrupted. Tom nodded.

"Thank you, **mon jouet****6**," Tom murmured, more to himself. "I apologize for speaking to you like that, **cher enfant**."

"Uncle Tom?" Petunia asked.

"Why, yes," Parvati said softly. "**Ma père****7** is Uncle Tom's Uncle, so we are related."

"Harry?" All eyes turned to Dudley and Harry. The latter was whimpering in his sleep.

"**Peu d'amour**?" Tom asked quietly.

At Tom's voice, Harry's eyes flashed open. Dilated like the other night. "Is Lily alright…?" Harry asked hoarsely. Tom blinked.

"**Ici, minou, minou, minou… Venez à Tom, petit Lis**8," Tom cooed as he squatted down. Out of the shadows of the couch, a little black and white kitten with emerald eyes rolled, a ribbon tied around its neck. "**Lis idiot. Vous avez effrayé Harry****9**." Tom smiled and carried the kitten to Harry. "Yes, **peu d'amour**, Lily is fine," Tom murmured, gently pressing the kitten into Harry's lap.

Translations:

**mon chéri****1****- **_Roughly translates to 'My Dear'_

**Je suis désolé****2****- **_Roughly translates to 'I am sorry'_

**peu d'amour****3****- **_Roughly translates to 'Little Love'_

**débile****4****- **_Roughly translates to 'Moron'_

**cher enfant****5****- **_Roughly translates to 'Dear Child'_

**mon jouet****6****- **_Roughly translates to 'My Toy'_

**Ma père****7****- **_Roughly translates to 'My Father'_

**Ici, minou, minou, minou… Venez à Tom, petit Lis****8****- **_Roughly translates to 'Here, kitty, kitty, kitty. Come to Tom, little Lily.'_

**Lis idiot. Vous avez effrayé Harry****9****- **_Roughly translates to 'Silly Lily. You scared Harry.'_


	4. Ch 4 Bill

Harry blearily looked around him. He was… In Tom's room, which was usually not a good sign. Tom was on the other side of the bed, sewing something. Without looking up, Tom said softly, "Good Morning Harry. Well, good afternoon really. After your silly little spell yesterday evening, you passed out."

Harry could only nod as he sat up. Lily came and pounced him when he was fully sitting up. He could only spare her a small smile before Tom grabbed his arm and yanked him up. Tom sighed. Harry looked at him blankly. Thank god. Thank every god that watched them that Harry was back to being Harry. Tom drew Harry into a brief hug. Holding him at arm's length, Tom looked Harry over then glanced at the clock.

"I invited Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Viktor over for dinner tonight." Harry stared. Tom turned Harry to face the bathroom and swatted him. "Go take a shower. I'll have Dobby bring your clothes in here. Of my choosing, obviously." Harry nodded blankly and took his robe from Tom and walked to the bathroom.

He flipped on the lights and shut and locked the door. He stood in front of the mirror –which was actually the whole west wall. Behind him was the sink –porcelain- and toilet –also porcelain- and on the north wall was a Jacuzzi, shower, and bathtub all in one. The south wall was merely the towel rack, the towel shelves, and the door. Harry stared at his reflection in silence as he undressed. He silently folded his clothes and laced them on the sink and turned to stare at his reflection. Scars. All he saw were scars. They adorned his torso and his legs. There wasn't a spot of skin on him not scarred. His eyes skimmed over his body. A huge scar that resembled an ink blot resided right in the center of his chest. He mused over Draco dumping him a week ago. Was this why…? Of course it was, he thought. Of course. Who would want… THAT? He glared as he looked his body once again in disgust before climbing into the bathtub. He drew the curtains closed and slid the shower door closed as well and turned on the shower.

He didn't bother turning the hot water on. He couldn't care less about himself. He would never feel clean anyways. Never bother trying to be normal. He washed his hair and brushed his teeth, leaving his body for last. Tears welled in his eyes. It hurt to think that his scars were Draco's reason for leaving him. It hurt, more than Harry would ever admit.

Why would Draco chose to abandon him because of something he knew about for many, many years? It made no sense, whatsoever. Harry fell to his knees, his arms wrapped around himself to protect his fragile body. The freezing water cascaded down his shivering form. No steam filled up the room and, on the other side of the door, Tom sighed.

Silently, Harry recovered. He began to scrub his body until it was raw red.

He barely heard Dobby announce that he'd brought the clothes Tom asked for. He _did_ hear Dobby pounding on the door of the bathroom, saying he needed to get dressed if he wanted to be ready for the guests. Harry barely registered climbing out of the shower and putting his robe on. He didn't remember leaving nor did he remember getting dressed. He did remember, however, being prim and ready to meet their guests at four.

For once, Harry and Tom did not match. Tom wore silver silk slacks, an emerald green silk turtle neck, and his black socks. Harry, however, wore black socks, gold silk slacks, and a ruby red silk turtle neck. Both looked absolutely stunning. The green on Tom brought out the ruby tint of his eyes and the red on Harry brought out what little color he had in his face. Despite best efforts, Harry's messy raven black hair was still bed-ruffled, but it gave him a childish tint. Tom's hair was slicked back perfectly, not a hair out of place. Harry wore his emerald framed glasses which brought out his eyes. Both looked dashing and, had they left the house at that precise moment, the women outside would have been put involuntarily into "fangirl" mode.

Harry stood beside the door and sighed. The door bell rang and he swung the door open.

"'Arry!" Viktor greeted.

"Harry, love!" Charlie greeted, giving Harry a light kiss on the cheek as he passed. "Dining room, yes Doll?" Harry internally cringed and externally, he nodded. Charlie and Viktor waltzed into the dining room.

"HARRY!" Harry whipped his head around quickly and rubbed the back of his neck as the Twins of Mischief waltzed into his house. He nodded tenderly and they followed their older brother's voice into the dining room. Harry anxiously peered out the door. Where was Bill…? He felt crestfallen but the feeling was quickly erased when he saw him. The red head bounded inside and shut the door behind himself.

He winked at the raven and grinned. "Miss me, Harry?" He put his arms around the boy's waist and pulled him closer. "I was gone an awful long time… An awful long way from here. You missed me, right?" Harry sighed in content, which was absolutely rare for the Potter-Riddle boy, and put his arms around Bill's neck.

He nuzzled the older's cheek. "Miss you…?" he whispered. "I died without you."

Bill chuckled and brought their lips together. Oblivious were the duo to the third party leaning on the wall watching them. Viktor shook his head in disgust and went back into the dining room.


End file.
